


a sky full of song

by missveils (Missveils)



Series: Inquisitor Dáire Lavellan [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Arlathan (Dragon Age), Dreams, Dreamsharing, Fade Dreams, M/M, Mild Gore, Post-Canon, Post-Dragon Age: Inquisition - Trespasser DLC, Protectiveness, Romantic Fluff, Solavellan, Surreal, mythal is mentioned, unfortunately
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:14:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23401327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missveils/pseuds/missveils
Summary: A song rising from the streets as the sun sets wakes Dáire from his dreams. He is still holding the book he was reading in his hands. He rubs his eyes, adjusting to the rosy light shimmering in the golden arches, pulling rainbows out of the blue spires.He looks up as two hands rest on his shoulders, to meet Solas, clad in gold and emerald silks. Dáire smiles as he leans to kiss him.“Didn’t want to wake you, vhenan.”Smiling at him, Dáire stands from the armchair and walks to the balcony. The marble floors are warm as always under his feet. The glasses on the balcony are filled with sweet wine. The sunlight is reaching the overlook in just the perfect way to create multicolor lights on the walls as it hits the stained-glass windows. The city of Arlathan bursts with color, with song and with laughter at their feet. As it always is. As it always has been.He rises gracefully from the floor and effortlessly floats to a seat on the railing.“I had the most curious dream, Solas.”-Inquisitor Lavellan dreams about Arlathan.
Relationships: Inquisitor/Solas (Dragon Age), Lavellan & Solas, Lavellan/Solas (Dragon Age), Male Lavellan/Solas
Series: Inquisitor Dáire Lavellan [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1694902
Comments: 5
Kudos: 23
Collections: Dragon Age Den fic collection





	a sky full of song

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote for @littlegumshoe (on Tumblr) about their m!Inquisitor, Dáire. You can check out art of him over here:
> 
> https://littlegumshoe.tumblr.com/tagged/inquisitor-lavellan

**i.**

A song rising from the streets as the sun sets wakes Dáire from his dreams. He is still holding the book he was reading in his hands. He rubs his eyes, adjusting to the rosy light shimmering in the golden arches, pulling rainbows out of the blue spires.

He looks up as two hands rest on his shoulders, to meet Solas, clad in gold and emerald silks. Dáire smiles as he leans to kiss him. 

“Didn’t want to wake you, vhenan.” 

Smiling at him, Dáire stands from the armchair and walks to the balcony. The marble floors are warm as always under his feet. The glasses on the balcony are filled with sweet wine. The sunlight is reaching the overlook in just the perfect way to create multicolor lights on the walls as it hits the stained-glass windows. The city of Arlathan bursts with color, with song and with laughter at their feet. As it always is. As it always has been. 

He rises gracefully from the floor and effortlessly floats to a seat on the railing. 

“I had the most curious dream, Solas.”

He joins Dáire, his arm around his waist. 

“I saw part of it. Was that a golden dragon you were fighting?”

“I think the golden dragon was fighting on my side. I think that, whatever I was battling, I won though.” He raises his left hand, looking at it and moving the fingers ringed in gold and gems. “You know, it felt very strange…”

“What?”

Dáire shakes his head and jumps down. The choir of voices on the streets starts singing a favourite song from his childhood. He gets Solas’ hands between his and walks back into the room. 

“Never mind. Just a dream. Dance with me!”

**ii.**

Dáire wakes up from a daydream as Solas combs his hair. They are sitting in the inner courtyard, surrounded by creeping ivy and roses. A harp plays by itself not far from them. 

“Sorry, I drifted there…”   


“I noticed. You were telling a story and you went quiet, vhenan.”

“Was I?” 

“About the man who pretended to be a knight to erase his past.” He chuckles as he hands Dáire the golden comb and starts braiding his hair. “You were getting to the exciting part.”

“Ah, yes! When he hears about his brother-in-arms being tried for his own crimes. The rain was falling heavily that morning…”

  
  


**iii.**

The song rising to the sky this morning is filled with sorrow. Hundreds of voices sing in mourning, like children crying for their mother. 

Dáire wakes from a short moment of weakness in their vigil, still holding a candle in his hand. His lover gently takes it from his hand. 

“You should sleep.”

Shaking his head, Dáire stands from the chair and walks to the balcony. The rain is still falling but does not fall over him. 

“She is really dead…”

“Murdered.”

There are a million questions Dáire wants to ask. Why? Why her? How? Death is something alien and profane. The thought of someone just gone forever, just like that…

“What’s going to happen to us… To them?” Dáire looks at the window as the mourning song reaches a final chorus. 

Solas rests his hands on Dáire’s shoulders. 

“I promise nothing will happen to you. Just stay here. Use the eluvian if you need to flee.”

Dáire had never seen that expression on his face. He had never seen the Wolf, who had led slaves and armed them against their masters, so, so terrified. His lover runs his fingers over the unmarked skin of his face. Dáire holds his hands.

“You are scared. You are afraid of Them taking m-”

“That is not going to happen.” He walks back towards the mirror, still holding his hands. 

The candles in the room light up as they cross it. Dark clouds roll outside. The rain falls, in a perfect pattern to match the songs. 

“How do you know? She is no longer here to protect us.”

“Because, as long as you stay here, you are safe. Use the eluvian if you need to flee.” He rests his hand on the surface and it lights up under his fingers, like snowflakes over a window. “And remember the words.”

Dáire looks into the eluvian, at the towers rising over the rolling valleys, the glittering lake, the deep summer sky, and he says: “Ar-melana dirthavaren. Revas vir-anaris”

**iv** .

“You need to wake up, vhenan!”

Solas shakes him awake and Dáire rubs the sleep from his eyes. 

“Why? It’s still dark outside. Let me sleep some more…”

His lover pulls him from the bed and suddenly he’s dressed on travel clothes as Solas wraps a thick cloak around him. 

“Ma vhenan, what is going on? If we are going outside I won’t need this, it’s not cold.”

“We need to get away now, out of this building! Please, trust me.”

Dáire sees the fear on his lover’s face and his blood runs cold. This is far worse than the death of Mythal. How could it be worse?

“I don’t understand!”   


“You don’t need to understand!” he grabs his arm and leads him out of the room. 

Dáire breaks free from the hold and runs towards the mirror.

“Why don’t we use the eluvian? We can just leave this-” 

Dáire’s hands touch the cold, simple surface of a mirror. In front of him, he’s only met by his own face and Solas’ over him. He runs his hands over the glass. 

“What’s going on? Why is it not working?”

“They are closed. Come.”

He leads Dáire out and down the steps of the spire. 

“What do you mean they are closed? What do you mean  _ they _ ? All of them?”

But his lover is silent, as they continue their way down and out into the floating passageways. The tiles glow pearly under their feet for a moment, and then they flicker dark as the sky over them. 

And then that’s when Dáire hears the screams. The terrible sound of stone and glass breaking in half. Elves pour into the streets. Some try to hold the walls together, bind them with magic, but they crumble before their eyes. 

The ground breaks beneath their feet.

“The spells don’t work!”

“The paths are broken!”

“Fen’Harel has done this!”

Dáire lets go of Solas’ hand, staring wide-eyed at him. 

“What have you…?”

A column falls between them and Dáire falls, and the ground shatters like glass under his hands. 

“Solas! The floor… The floor is gone!”

He can almost see him through the dust and the debris. He stretches his arm and tries to find his hand but the void opens under his feet. 

“Please, ma vhenan, don’t let me fall! Don’t let me fall!”

He can hear Solas calling his name before his scream joins that of thousands of elves and drowns it out. 

It feels like falling in your sleep. That is the only thing he can compare it to. 

His body finds the ground and it’s not soft. He has never felt pain like this. He has never seen this much blood covering the grass. 

He tries to move but finds the remnants of the tower’s spire through his left arm. He speaks the words to make it disappear, dissolve into air, into water, into dust. He speaks the words to heal. But none of them work. His blood runs over the blue glass. 

Lightning breaks the dark clouds overhead and the rain starts pouring. It’s cold like he has never felt. The cloak offers little comfort as the icy water soaks to his bones. 

_ What did you do, Solas? Where are you? Where is everyone? _

_ Why can’t I hear anyone? _

_ Why do I feel that if I go to sleep I am never going to- _

Dáire opens his eyes in the same place, in a different time and is welcomed by the stars instead of the rain. The tower, or what is left of it, lies in fragments around him. Moss and ivy and the weather have claimed most of the stone of what just a few hours earlier he had thought was just some forgotten ruins. 

He stands and, following an impulse, walks up to one of the walls still standing and kneels, digging on the earth with his hand. After some minutes of digging, he reaches into the earth and picks up a comb, tarnished by time but still gold under the moonlight. 

Dáire turns to the trees, just in time to see a flash of eyes disappear in the dark. 

“Was that a dream?!” he shouts into the forest. 

“Was that your idea of a gift?” he asks, quietly, closing his fist over the comb. 

He rests his back on the wall behind him. 

“Was that a memory?” he asks the voices from the Well. 

But for once there is only silence. And the forest itself seems to hold its breath for a moment. 

And Dáire hums a song that might or might not have existed once. Rising from the streets as the sun set.

**Author's Note:**

>  _I couldn't hide from the thunder_  
>  In the sky full of song


End file.
